


Blooded

by thornsilver



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Angst, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 02:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16883598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornsilver/pseuds/thornsilver
Summary: Two conversations--Kyo, Yohji, Aya.





	Blooded

**Author's Note:**

> This story have been originally posted to LJ.

~A shadow of the body twisting in the noose....~

Kyo woke in a rush of misery, not at all pleased at the return at that familiar horror. Even the visions of the blood-splattered bodies were better than that. Bodies that *he* had created. ~You *will* have nightmares~, they told him. It was still worth it, if he could get his vengeance. He had to believe that. It was too late to back down now, by several deaths.

But there was no way he was going to go back to sleep tonight. He knew what had brought it on too--the newest addition to their team. Sena looked too much like his brother for comfort. Made him irrational. Kyo pulled on a tee-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then went to the bathroom down the hall to splash some water into his face. The sky behind the window was looking lighter than the true night would have. He might as well start the day.

He walked down the stairs, paying just enough attention to make sure that the boards didn't creak. Aya, for one, slept lightly enough that he might come out to investigate. Not something he wanted to deal with when he felt so out of balance as it was.

Somebody was in the kitchen already.

Bright yellow hair in artless disarray, a lanky, almost too thin body astride a chair, one hand busy with a cigarette while the other held a beer can. Green eyes met his for a moment, before looking away as Yoji Kudou sipped his drink. Tonight was not a mission night, so he probably just got in, speculation confirmed by the hip hugging jeans and a sparkly top.

Kyo nodded briefly and went to fill the kettle.

He had learned certain things since joining Weiss, something that Rex didn’t cover in her briefings. He learned that the elder assassins scared him. 

Ken Hidaka, all passion and fury during a fight and completely not there the rest of the time. Hiding in his room more often than not. The others told him to never get between Siberian and his target.

Yohji Kudou was friendly enough. Sometimes. And other times his comments managed to strike exactly into every half-healed wound.

And than there was their leader. Aya Fujimiya was reserved but always ready with advice. At first glance. It took a Kyo a while to notice the layer of glacial ice underneath. 

He supposed Rex's warnings didn’t help--"Don’t ask him about his name, his family, or his past. Not a good idea.” Not that Fujimiya Aya was much of a conversationist in any case.

But, oh, the way Aya moved! Casually lethal tornado. Graceful and deadly blade. Kyo was good, good enough to be Weiss, but he wasn't *that* good. He wondered if he ever could be, even if he lived long enough. The first time they were on a kill mission together, Kyo froze, distracted. Boy, did Fujimiya rip him a new one for that after they were clear...

The subdued clank from behind him brought his attention back to the smoking blond. Yoji put his can on the table and was shaking the ashes into it. His movements were even more languid than usual, and a blush had climbed up his cheeks. ~Drunk~, Kyo diagnosed easily. This not being a mission night, that was almost a certainty. He had suddenly lost his craving for the coffee. Drunken Yohji was at his most vicious. Verbally, anyway.

Yohji studied him lazily from the sleep-tousled head to bare feet, almost, but not quite smirking, and his eyes glinted. 

"You know, he is not really going to fuck you."

"What?!?" Kyo felt the reality tilt and wobble. This was so completely *not* anything he expected the other man to say.

"Aya. The Ice Queen. Remember him?"

Kyo stared at Yohji, completely stupefied as the blond took another drag of his cigarette and continued: "Even if he had those kinds of urges, which I for one tend to doubt, he'd never fuck somebody on the team he is leading."

"I am going back to sleep." This seemed to be the better option by far out of the maelstrom of impulses in Kyo's head. The nightmares could go fuck themselves. He will sleep, and by morning he will hopefully forget this conversation.

***

"Stupid kid." As if Yohji did not see the stars in his eyes every time he looked at their team leader. As if he didn't recognize... No, he so wasn't going to go there. Suddenly he wanted something stronger than beer. Too bad that Aya wouldn’t let him keep anything like that in the house. Oh, well. He started to maneuver himself to the refrigerator.

Behind Yohji the floor creaked. He twisted around, heart in his throat.

Aya was wearing ratty sweatpants and a tee-shirt with the collar and sleeves torn out, both washed so many times that their current color could only be described as *faded*. His sleeping attire for as long as Yohji had known him. His braid loosened somewhat in sleep and blood-red tendrils framed his face. In the unforgiving kitchen light, he looked very severe. 

Aya reached into the refrigerator past Yohji, so close that Yohji could’ve kissed the other man if he didn’t know better than to try, and came out with a rather lopsided riceball. "Are you fucking with the newbies again, Yohji?" Two years ago it would have came out belligerent. Now the inquiry wasn't even snide. It was just politely curious.

Yohji had picked out another beer can and took a sip out of it before answering, knowing that it would get Aya's goat and briefly willing to do anything to see the prickly bastard of the "good old days". This Aya didn't even move an eyelash, seemingly content to wait for the answer forever. Politely. Shit. 

Yohji bit his lip. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"What does?" Aya still haven't taken a bite, Yohji noticed absently.

"That Kritiker had found some more pansies to do the dirty work for them? That they are so fucking young it hurts?" That the youngest one looked scarily like Omi used to, back when he answered to "Kid".

"And what would you have me tell them Yohji? Should I tell them that this work will steal their souls, or that they might just learn to enjoy it? Would they believe me? Would you have had? And if they did, do you really think that Kritiker would let them go and sin no more?"

Yohji gaped stupidly as Aya turned around and went back upstairs, the rice ball still cradled in his hand. This time there were no creaks.

Yohji finished his beer in a couple of harried swallows. The need to get out, to leave, settled on his skin like an itch. He couldn't wait for the mission in Europe to start. It would be better there. It sure the Hell couldn't get any worse.


End file.
